


Storybook Ending

by chileancarmenere



Series: Wishing In The Dark [11]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:41:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chileancarmenere/pseuds/chileancarmenere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after Danarius is killed, Fenris and Isabela are trying to rebuild.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storybook Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics at the beginning are from Reason Why by Ron Pope and Grace Weber.

_I’d had enough, I’d given up, I was broken_

 _Left to rust, hollowed out, life seemed hopeless_

 _Here you are, you see my scars, but still you’re drying these eyes_

 

Some days are bad.

Some days he wakes up screaming. He scrabbles at his skin, where faded scars trace the old lyrium tattoo pathways. He remembers the pain as they were sucked away from him, and on those days Isabela tells Merrill to make herself scarce, because Fenris would kill her on sight. He forgets what Isabela reminds him every day, shows him every day, and he wants his life with Danarius back. One memorable night, Isabela awoke to find a dagger at her throat, and Fenris glaring down at her, all reason and memory fled from his eyes. She had to talk him down, try and calm him down. It took hours.

Some days are better. Isabela spends a lot of her time trying to make him remember. The night after Danarius’ death, she drugged him and smuggled him out of the estate; the magisters who parceled out Danarius’ estate would have taken him in the blink of an eye. For the next few days after that, every time he saw one of them he would fly into a blind rage. It took weeks before Isabela could be in a room alone with him to talk to him. Merrill looked for spell reversals as Isabela talked to him and told him about his years in Kirkwall and all that she knew, all that he had told her, of his years on the run.

Eventually, he began to believe her. But even now she can see in his eyes that although he accepts the story as fact, he doesn’t remember it himself. All that he knows of his life before is what she tells him.

She doesn’t tell him about how they were lovers. She doesn’t apologize for the last night they spent together, when she walked away from him with a curse and a lie, and the next time they saw each other his protector was handing him over to an abusive master. She doesn’t think he can handle it. Instead, she survives on her memories of him before, and treats him like a brother. They both live in her memories.

They sail from place to place. Zevran leaves with a smile and a wave and a kiss when they next dock in Antiva. A while later, they hear of the events in Kirkwall. They hear that Anders is dead and the Circles are rising up all around Thedas. Isabela decides to stay out of it. She has enough problems of her own. Keeping Fenris and Merrill and her crew safe is her priority now.

One night, she dreams of him as he was before. His lyrium tattoos glowing dully, his green eyes warm with his wry smirk. They are on the bed in his stolen mansion, and Isabela dreams that she stays the night. She wakes up weak with lust for him.

 _Well, it has been a while_ , she thinks wryly. It’s still dark outside, so she throws on her shirt and walks barefoot on the deck, telling the night watch to go to their beds because she’ll watch the rest of the night.

“Isabela.”

She turns around. Fenris, wearing a thin black shirt and breeches, is walking towards her. _No weapon. That’s a good sign._

“You’re awake?” she asks.

“I was thinking.” He leans on the railing and looks out over the black sea.

She nods and stands next to him. They stand in companionable silence for a while. “I need to ask you,” he says eventually. “My lyrium tattoos…they were here?” He traces two lines on his chin.

She hardly dares breathe. The faint scars he bears are from the second set of lyrium tattoos Danarius gave him. She had never described the old ones to him.

“They were,” she says hesitantly. “When we were in Kirkwall. Danarius changed them when he brought you back to Minrathous.”

He looks thoughtful. “It had seemed to me that they were there.”

“So you remember them?”

He shrugs, looking bitter. “I don’t know. How many times did he wipe my memory? I might be much older than I thought. Perhaps this is only the second time he has wiped my memory, but it could just as easily be the fifth or even the tenth. I might have had a family.” He holds up a hand to forestall her. “I remember Varania. I mean a family I started myself. What else has he made me forget?”

“I wish I had something comforting to say,” she says softly. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“He made me forget you.” Fenris turns to her, a strangely intense look in his eyes. “I need you to tell me. What were you to me? You skirt over the issue every time I ask you.”

Isabela picks at a splinter on the railing, unwilling to look him in the eye. “What makes you ask me?”

“I am not a fool. Merrill watches us all the time with sad eyes. You give me strange looks when you think I am not looking.”

“You don’t remember anything.” She doesn’t ask it as a question, but he answers it all the same. “I…flashes. I don’t understand them.”

She bites her lip, frustrated with herself. She’s acting like a girl with her first crush. “All right, then. We were a bit more than friends. We were lovers. I guess you don’t remember that.”

Fenris sucks in a breath, turning towards the ocean again. She can’t read his expression. Is he going to grab her and kiss her? Throw her overboard? Well, he’s done that once already.

“You came back for me.” His voice is almost devoid of emotion. She nods. “Yes. Of course I did.”

“I nearly killed you.” His voice is still flat. “I might have broken your back.”

“Yeah. Didn’t happen, though.”

“And you’ve kept me around all these months.”

She shrugs. Obviously. What does he expect her to say?

“Did I…I must have meant something to you, for you to do this for me?” His voice breaks at last, and she snatches at his hand. “You didn’t think you did, but it was because I couldn’t admit it to you. You did. You meant an awful lot to me. You still do.”

Ever so slowly, he kisses her hand. “I will try to be worthy of you, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the end of Wishing In The Dark! I hope you have enjoyed it.


End file.
